


The Room

by Fanlan



Category: Good Omens (Radio), Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, a little prompt, all the versions of these boys from book to script to radio to tv, that ends on a cliffhanger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:40:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25871494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanlan/pseuds/Fanlan
Summary: Prompt:“I have this one specific scene that I keep imagining. Like, Show Zira offering a plate of cookies to Script Crowley, being a good angel host, and Script C rejects them all rudely, which made Show A sad, which made Show C protectively angry, and basically threatened Script C to eat the cookies or else. Sorry, I'm not good at explaining.”
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	The Room

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Buckets_Of_Stars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buckets_Of_Stars/gifts).



> For Leah. <3

The ‘hows’, the ‘whys’, and any and all logic in the galaxy can always be summed up as ineffable when it comes to an Aziraphale. When there wasn’t a reasonable explanation for something, it had to be Her. That’s all the four near identical angels needed as they stared towards one another in a strange room none had ever recalled being in their shop before. Their favored armchairs next to each of their demon’s favored thrones neatly set in a circle in the room. They sat easily and smiled at one another, each being rewarded with a cup of their favorite hot liquid popping into existence before them on the large tea table in the center of their circle and a variety of treats appearing moments later. A treat from mother no doubt for taking this strangeness with ease. 

Each demon glanced towards each other with suspicious looks and even more suspicious glares about the room but most didn’t hesitate to join their angels' sides. 

One however did refuse to join his angel by his side, the lone Aziraphale tried to give a reassuring smile to his counterparts and suspicious as ever demons at their sides but it fell flat as his head sank down. Despite the ridiculous amount of blinding white the Aziraphale wore, he seemed to sink perfectly into the shadow his Crowley cast from behind him. His Crowley glared at his watch and decided this was all ridiculous and a waste of his time. 

“Stay and waste your time if you wish, I think I shall go and not entertain your foolishness, Aziraphale.” 

There was an awkward tension settling, one Aziraphale, easily the shortest and roundest of them, cupped his chin thinking to himself. His Crowley stared towards him with a scowl, he knew his Aziraphale was going to force leadership on this situation. His Crowley glanced at his stylish watch (everything about him was as stylish, the picture of a 1990 CEO), a curious glint in his eyes, it even told the time in different dimensions it seemed, it was half past nine nearly thirty years ahead of where he came from. Let’s call these two Mr. Fell (nicknames would not do for this Aziraphale) and Anthony for simplicity sake. 

The next pair sat with very subtle concern, the kind you would only recognize if you knew them. Shoulders a tad tenser then normal, lips tilting just a bit lower than the norm and more shifting then was necessary for comfort. The pair looked like they had just been forced from bed in the middle of the night and well that wasn’t far from the truth. They had gone in for a nap, figuring they deserved it after the past eleven years of nonsense, but had woken with Aziraphale feeling a draw to enter their closet and like the rest had ended up here. Aziraphale had his bunny slippers rested lazily on Crowley's lap and was trying his best not to look towards the other Aziraphale’s sadness, not wanting to be involved. Let’s call these two Ezra (a name this Aziraphale had been known as in his shop the last century) and Tony (though this Crowley may not be thrilled to be called so outside the bedroom). 

The final pair were even more determined to set this right then even Mr. Fell. This Aziraphale was the youngest of the bunch and his Crowley was the most protective. The last of the pairs to enter an intimate relationship and still trying to find their footing in it. This Aziraphale sat the stiffest and cast the strongest empathy to his counterpart and even turned some of that empathy towards the Crowley who refused to take a seat by his side. 

He was always good at being hospitable and before Mr. Fell could stand with his commanding tone and questions, the youngest Aziraphale (who we shall call Zira) was already up with a dish in hand from the tea table. He had to assume all Crowley’s deep down had a weakness for shortbread, not exactly the home made ones he made his own Crowley but he had seen the other Crowley’s eying the plate the same as his own. 

He approached the Crowley with little hesitation while his own Crowley was up again and looming behind him, casting a warning towards the stoic and broad shouldered version of himself. 

“Please don’t be so rash,” he said with a waning smile holding the tray out closer to the Crowley, “there must be a reason behind us all being summoned here, maybe we should---” 

He was cut off by a smack to the tray, it wasn’t a hard strike but it was enough to put Zira off balance and the tray lashed to the ground. 

It was like a flash of lightening one moment it was Zira becoming distressed between a threat he never thought he would need to deal with and the next his darling Crowley was between them, snarling and grabbing the Crowley harshly by the hand. 

“Sit down before I throw you down,” Crowley sneered at his imposing opposite, scales beginning to appear and fangs already popping forth. 

The other Crowely sneered back but a cold shiver went down his spine at his counterpart. He didn’t want to challenge and did as he was told. 

“If you are all quite done,” Mr. Fell stated not leaving room for argument, “Let’s discuss why we are here.”


End file.
